


Secret Holiday

by sanctum_c



Series: Turk Week 2018 [6]
Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Drinking, Gen, Holidays, Missing Scene, Nervousness, Wutai (Compilation of FFVII), turtle's paradise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:08:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctum_c/pseuds/sanctum_c
Summary: Elena tries to relax when the Turks spend longer in Wutai than is strictly necessary.
Relationships: The Turks & The Turks (Compilation of FFVII)
Series: Turk Week 2018 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609954
Kudos: 2





	Secret Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'Cover Ups'

Elena sat with Reno and Rude in the Turtle’s Paradise and glanced over her shoulder. Again. Completely futile and no guard against anything. If Tseng or Rufus arrived now-

No. Impossible. Godo reluctantly accepted the Turks were in Wutai. Rufus would need a full diplomatic welcome; Tseng by contrast would be a slight too large to ignore and whatever tenuous relations existed between Wutai and Shinra would be undone. But, if it came to it, Shinra could wipe Wutai off the map without much fuss at this point; some blasts from the Sister Ray, a battalion of SOLDIER – the third-class would do. And right in keeping with Rufus’s attitude up to this point. But it would be more work, more effort, more explanations.

The resulting cover-up and forging of evidence would fall to the Turks as it had done in the past. Elena snorted and sipped at her drink to cover after a questioning glance from Reno. The Turks as it existed five years ago (make-up unclear. Tseng certainly. Reno and Rude both had question marks dangling over their heads) managed to be both exacting and sloppy when masking the destruction of Nibelheim. At first glance an exact replica of a remote mountain town – and no evidence some SOLDIER had razed the original to the ground. But on closer inspection the duplicate left many things wanting.

Dig about a foot down into any dirt or patch of grass and a curious party would find ash. A lot of ash. Former residents of the town would notice inconsistencies. The gate no longer making an age-old squeak. The shade of the wallpaper in an upstairs room no longer the same. A collection of ornaments differing in odd ways. Memory was faulty so perhaps they were nothing significant. Of greater concern were parents and relatives not where they should be; people who were gone without specified destinations or forwarding addresses.

Had the Turks taken care of the dangling threat? Removed anyone who might one day return to the town and find it subtly different? Or worse, find anyone who might have seen the blaze and survived it. Avalanche had two of those, though one presented a curious conundrum all of its own. If any account of the incident were trust-worthy. Hojo’s arrival and interference had muddied waters remarkably. Not outside their remit – and who would notice another body in Midgar or Junon?

All in all, the worry about discovery after dispatching a former source – and affecting a sort of truce with Avalanche – while drinking instead of pursuing the latter, probably did not compare. Reno was adamant he had covered for their whereabouts. Avalanche had hit something of a dead-end tracking Sephiroth. Since the Turks were tracking him – or Avalanche (depending on who in the organisation had authority at that juncture) – there was a sort of sense in letting them flounder and work out where to go next.

Reno’s assurances should not have been so reassuring – and would not except for a few oblique remarks from Tseng. He had made clear they need not worry about Avalanche’s whereabouts; should the Turks need to catch-up, he would provide the location. Frustratingly both Reno and Rude took the answer at face value and thought no more about it. But how Tseng could possibly know plagued Elena. The conclusion kept pointing to a handful of obvious solutions, none of which seemed to fit. Bugs had range issues. A spy should be at least known to them. A shadow would be no better than the Turks following directly.

Tseng’s words probably had not been tacit approval for an unofficial extended holiday. And yet here they were. Elena fought the urge to glance behind her again. Reno was following his soap opera again with intent concentration despite what must be a heavy haze of alcohol at this point. Rude split his attention around the bar, tight-lipped as always. And Elena was paranoid. Avalanche had left an hour before and it was still hard to shake the notion they should be right behind them. But she could not ditch her companions without a great number of awkward questions.

Elena picked up her bottle and tried to enjoy the secret holiday.


End file.
